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HER UNCLE'S BOOTS 1 



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••PYRIftHT, 16«9, BY WALTER H. BAKBR 4 C* 



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Her Uncle's Boots 

A Farce in One Act 

For Female Characters Only 



By 
MRS. MYRTLE BARBER CARPENTER 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1910 



<, .<& 






Her Uncle's Boots 



CHARACTERS 



Miss Izabelle, preceptress at a Girls' School. 

Anne Dyer 

Elizabeth Winter 

Kittens Carlisle 

Loraine Bassext 

Jule Pomeroy 

Nell Oldfield, a girl visiting at the school. 



pupils at the school. 



COSTUMES 

The girls should, with the exception of Jule, be rather well 
dressed ; she should wear a shabby looking dress, made very 
plainly. Miss Izabelle should be stylishly dressed. 

PROPERTIES 

Any ordinary furnishings for a sitting-room. A large dry- 
goods box, a fancy dress with a torn ruffle, a picture hat, some 
books tied together, a pair of fancy boots, a collection of cheap 
jewelry to be used in bribing the burglar, and a knife, chafing- 
dish spoon, a revolver, a call bell, stove poker and umbrella to 
be used in frightening him. 




Copyright, 1910, by Walter EL Baker & Co. 

©CI.D 2208*; 



Her Uncle's Boots 



SCENE. — Any ordinary sitting-room, A table toward the 
front with a chair near it. A door leading to the right, 
toward the front, and another at the rear. A dry-goods 
box should be placed at the left side and piles of clothing, 
books, etc., should be lying about. 

Efiter Jule Pomeroy, carrying a feather duster in one hand 
and a pair of men's boots in the other. Puts down the 
boots and begins to dust ; heaves a sigh and pauses. 

Jule. Ob, dear ! I guess I'm tired of playing poor girl. 
{Drops into a chair and pushes back her hair.) It isn't any 
joke working for one's board, it's work — work — work from 
morning till night! {Pause.') Just think, I haven't had a 
whole pound of chocolates since 1 came here last fall, and only 
two ice-cream sodas, and those I was treated to. I wonder 
what made me such a goose ! The idea of going off to a fash- 
ionable boarding-school and working for my board, when Dad's 
worth a half a million. Had to, though, to prove to Uncle 
Max that all girls aren't snobs ! I can stand most of it, but I 
do hate to give these away. {Goes over and picks up the boots 
and places them on the table.) My uncle's boots ! Positively 
it's the only thing I have here that I can spare, and Miss Iza- 
belle said she wanted each girl to contribute something to that 
Old Folks' Home, and she would be glad if we sacrificed some- 
thing in what we gave. Guess I do, all right, and I don't 
know if the boots will fit any of those old men she told us about 
or not. Oh, dear ! I wonder if the others have brought much ; 
looks like it by the size of the piles. Well, 1 suppose I'd bet- 
ter leave them and get back to my room, or Nell Oldfield will 
see me and recognize me. Who ever dreamed that I'd see 
anybody here that I'd ever known before. My ! but I would 
like to have a good visit with her ! She was all right when she 
was out on the ranch that summer. Well, she mustn't see me 
or she'll give the whole thing away. (Starts to leave the room 



4 HER UNCLE'S BOOTS 

at the rear ; springs back.) Horrors! There she is now! 
Perhaps she doesn't see me. (Looks wildly around.) There's 
no place to hide but Miss Izabelle's room, and I don't dare go 
in there. 

Enter Nell Oldfield. 

Nell. Jule ! Jule ! Jule Pomeroy ! What are you dodg- 
ing me for ? Where have you been ever since I came ? 

(Jule comes forward reluctantly.) 

Jule. Hush, Nell. Sh ! 

{Looks around apprehensively as Nell comes forward and 
throws her arms around her. ) 

Nell. Oh, what is it ? What is it ? Nobody ever told me 
you were here.. I just found your name in the catalogue when 
when I was up in Kittens' room waiting for the crowd to get 
back from class. I was just starting out to find out about it, 
and I saw you dodging back in here. What is it? Didn't 
you want to see me ? 

Jule. Want to see you ? Well, I should say I did ! But 
can you keep a secret, Nell ? 

Nell. Sure, if you want me to ; but what on earth is the 
matter ? Why are you togged out in that cheap dress ? Your 
father hasn't lost all his money, has he? {Watches Jule as 
she picks up the boots.) And what are you doing with men's 
boots here? And why haven't you written to me? And 

Jule {laughing). One at a time, Nell, please. It'll be a 
positive relief to tell you, only give me time. 

Nell. Well? 

Jule. And you won't tell, honest? 

Nell. Cross my heart — I hope to die. 

Jule. All right, then. You remember my Uncle Max? 

Nell. Oh, the college professor who was out on the ranch 
that summer I was there? Looked awful sick, and you said it 
was because the girl he was to have married had married some- 
body who had more money? Oh, yes, I remember him. But 
what has that got to do with you being here? 

Jule. Wait a bit and you'll see. You know mother died 
the winter after you were there, and father was afraid that I 
was getting too wild and woolly or something ; said I knew 
more about driving bronchos than I did about playing the piano, 



HER UNCLE S BOOTS 5 

and so he packed me off to stay with Uncle Max and bis sis- 
ters a spell. Well, I just dote on Uncle Max, and I guess he 
likes me*kind of. but he just hates women generally, says they're 
snobs and I don't know what all. 

Nell. I know he was that way that summer, but what has 
that got to do with you being here ? 

Jule. Well, I'm coming to that ! I was reading in the 
library one day, curled up behind the curtain on the big win- 
dow-seat, when Uncle Max and Professor Eastman came in. 
They were talking about girls' education. Uncle Max said that 
the present system was all wrong. He said that if a girl went 
off to school and had plenty of money and a lot of noted rela- 
tives she'd never have any trouble gaining friends, and a lot 
more like that. Said she'd have a sort of pull, you know, and 
everything would be smooth sailing. Well, Professor Eastman 
said it w r asn't so; and just because one girl had treated him 
shabbily was no reason for judging that the whole class were 
crooked. He said that true womanhood was valued wherever 
you found it, whether clad in silk or calico, and a whole lot 
more along that string about "fine feathers not making fine 
birds." Sounded just like a book ! And Uncle Max walked 
up and down the room and he said he believed if he could find 
anybody who cared more for brains than they did for gold he'd 
be glad. He said he believed his faith in womankind would 
be restored if a rich girl w r ould forget her money for a while. 
Said he wished he could send me off where folks would know 
me for what I really was and not because my father was rich 
and my mother a Bostonian blue blood. And just then I 
jumped out from behind the curtain and yelled, "I'll do it, 
Uncle Max, I'll do it." Both the men jumped awfully, and 
then Uncle Max said all sort of solemn, "What'll you do, lit- 
tle girl?" And I said, "I'll go off to a fashionable girls' 
school as a poor girl, and I'll never tell a soul that Daddy's 
rich nor that I have a noted relative unless it will do somebody 
some good, and " 

Nell. And you really did it ! How grand ! But what 
have the boots got to do with it ? 

Jule. Well, you see that day Professor Eastman was greatly 
pleased, and he just shouted out "Bravo ! " when I got through, 
and then he turned to Uncle Max and said, "You'd better 
give her your hero boots, Max. Any girl that is willing to 
pass through what she'll have to, if she does what she says 
she'll do, is as much of a hero as you were the night you carried 






D HER UNCLE S BOOTS 

Claire Gray out of Old South during the fire. " And Uncle 
Max gave them to me. 

Nell. But what are you doing with them here? 

Jule. Giving them away to an Old Folks' Home. 

Nell. Are you crazy ? 

Jule. No, but honestly it's the only thing I've got that I 
can spare, and Miss Izabelle was so anxious that each girl 
donate something. 

Nell. Why don't you send home for something? 

Jule. The poor girl couldn't, and so I'm not going to, but 
it's just like pulling teeth to part with them. 

Nell. Well, I'd never do it ! (Pauses.*) You ought to 
write up your experiences for some magazine, Jule. Call it 
" A Poor Girl's Experiences In a Fashionable Boarding-School, " 
or something like that. 

Jule. Hadn't thought about it. Guess I will! (Gong 
sounds.) Mercy! there is the gong and we mustn't be seen 
together. Don't let on that you've ever seen me. 

(Both make hasty exit, Jule thrusts boots into bottom of 
box as she leaves.) 

Enter Miss Izabelle. 

Miss I. Well, I suppose it is my duty to look over and sort 
out this material and see what is really fit to send to the Old 
Folks' Home. I wonder what there is ? (Begins to examine 
the contents of the box.) I told the girls to make some sacri- 
fice if they really wanted to enjoy giving. (Pulls out a bundle 
of books.) Books, hardly soiled; those must be from Elizabeth. 
She has always been such a treasure in the school that I really 
hate to think of her graduating. The bundle of shirt-waists 
(holding them up) must be Anne's, dear, sensible Anne. A party 
dress with a torn ruffle and a note pinned on. Wonder what 
it says? (Reads.) "Dear whoever gets me: Miss Izabelle 
wants us to give you something that it's hard to part with, 'cause 
she says we enjoy it more, so I'm sending you my very pret- 
tiest party dress ; Loraine says that old ladies won't have any 
use for a silk party gown, but my grandmother likes pretty 
things, and I believe you will. P. S. The ruffle is torn, so 
I'm going to give you the picture hat that goes with it. With 
lots of love, Katherine King Carlisle." (Miss I. smiles.) 
Katherine, I wonder if she will ever grow up to her name or 
always be just dear little lovable Kittens. The worsted slippers 



HER UNCLE S BOOTS 7 

are Loraine's, I suppose, but what in the world are these? 
{Holds up the boots.) A pair of men's fancy dress boots ! 
Why, where did they come from? Why, they look like the 
identical ones that Max wore the night that he saved my life 
back there in dear Old South Hall. He was so brave and calm 
and cool. He picked me up and carried me out as though I 
did not weigh anything at all. And the fire was all around us. 
It was a costume party, and he was wearing those funny boots 
and had a military cloak over one shoulder, and he threw that 
over my face so that nothing could hurt my face, and ran out 
over the burning timbers. I almost wish I had died then ! 
When we got out he was nearly suffocated, and some one tore 
ofY his coat and another grabbed his boots. It was Ted East- 
man, and he put them upon a dry-goods box and made a little 
speech and called them the hero's boots. And then one of the 
girls, I remember, took out her fountain-pen and wrote " Hero's 
Boots" on one side. {Examines the boots and gives a little 
cry.) Why, they are his boots ! Why, where did they come 
from? Who could have put them in here? It couldn't have 
been for a joke on me, for nobody knows that I am Claire 
Gray. Oh, how could Max treat me so? Whatever made him 
go off in that way? He might have known I was only teasing. 
No sensible girl would ever think of throwing him over for that 
old Bailey, even if he was a millionaire. I couldn't help his 
hanging around me when he was such a great friend of Aunt 
Mildred's. Max must have known I cared only for him. {Be- 
gins to cry ; hears some one coming ; springs to her feet from 
where she had been k?ieeling beside the box.) Oh, oh, I must 
not be found here. And I can't give up those boots. 

{Thrusts them Just inside the front doorway and makes a 
hasty exit as steps are heard approaching. ) 

Enter Kittens Carlisle ; she sinks i?ito a chair by the table. 

Kit. Oh, dear! I wish I was bright. I hate always to be 
the know-nothing in the school. And now that Nell Oldfield 
has come, I can't study in my room at all. Have to trapes off 
down here. Guess the girls think that my grades are so bad 
that there's no use in trying to help me out by giving me a 
chance to study. You know I think the younger sister of a 
real smart person is really to be pitied. The teachers always 
expect you to be as smart as your older sister was, and you're 
not, anyway I'm not, and — but this won't get my Dutch; Ich 



8 HER UNCLE S BOOTS 

liebe dich nein, nein, nein (She goes to studying ; looks 

upfront her book remarking. ) It's kind of still here ! Wonder 
what the girls are doing ? The light isn't very good. (Rises, 
moves things around on the table, glances toward the bedroom 
door inside of which the boots are fust visible, starts backward 
and screams.) Ow ! Ow ! There's a man in there ! I — I 
saw his boots. Why, why, what shall I do ? It — it — it must 
be a burglar ! He's after Miss Izabeile's jewels. Oh, oh, I'm 
afraid to run away for fear he'll follow me. (She keeps staring 
at the door?) Let me see 1 in books they always lock 'em up. 
I'm going to shut that door if it kills me ! (Makes a rush, 
slams the door shut, being careful to look the other way. As 
the door is closed she looks around in horror.*) Oh! The 
key's on the other side ! I don't dare to scream for help. I 
know he's got a gun, and he'll — he'll shoot me — I've got to 
call the girls. 

(She makes a hasty exit and reenter s , folloived by Elizabeth 
Winter, Anne Dyer, Loraine Bassett, Nell and Jule, 
all more or less excited.) 

Eliz. A burglar, Kittens ? 

Kit. (excitedly). Yes, I saw him. I was sitting here study- 
ing, and 1 looked up and saw a man's boots. 

Anne. Who shut the door ? 

Kit. I did. I was going to lock him in, like folks do in 
books, but the key was on the other side. 

Nell. Why don't you telephone to the police? 

Eliz. I thought of that, but you see the 'phone is in that 
room. 

(Points toward the room where the burglar is supposed to be.) 

Nell. Whew ! Say, Jule, why don't you suggest some- 
thing ? 

Lor. I know what we've got to do ! We've got to bribe 
him to go away ! 

All. How ? 

Lor. Why, we can each bring our money and jewelry and 
— and give them to him. 

Anne. I'd like to know who'd give it to him. Will you go 
in there, Lor ? 

Lor. No, no. 

Eliz. I know ; we can put it on a chair, and then yell and 
tell him about it, and he can come out and get it, 






HER UNCLE S BOOTS 9 

All. Oh, no ! no ! 

Nell. Well, he'd never come out if we were all here; 
there'd be too much danger of getting caught afterward. 

Kit. But we could go away and leave it for him. 

Lor. But what if he should follow us ? 

Eliz. He won't; all he wants is our valuables. 

Kit. I'm afraid to go to my own room alone. His boots 
were so queer ! And he may have an accomplice. 

Jule. Why not scare him off and save our money ? 

All. We can't. 

Anne. I tell you, we'll go around together and collect our 
things. You tell him, Elizabeth, so he won't follow us. 

Eliz. {approaching the door and shouting). Mr. Burglar, 
Mr. Burglar, please don't come out; we're going to get all our 

money and jewelry for you, and Mercy, girls, he don't 

answer. 

{Looks around at the girls in consternation.) 

Anne. Course not ; he's not going to give us anything to 
identify him by afterward. 

{All leave the room and soon return, each carrying a collec- 
tion of jewelry and purses.) 

Eliz. We'll pile it up on a chair right by the door. {The 
girls approach the chair gingerly and each leaves her contribu- 
tion upon it. This can be made very laughable if a good deal 
of acting is done. When everything is on the chair, all retreat 
to the door and Eliz. cries.) Here it is, Mr. Burglar. We'll 
all go away now, and you can come and get it. 

Jule. I bet he never comes after it. 

Nell. I'm going to peek through the keyhole and see what 
he looks like. 

{They all rush out ; a few minutes later Lor. cautiously 
opens the door.) 

Lor. He — he — won't take it ! 

( The girls all peek in and then enter. ) 

Kit. It isn't our money he wants. He must be going to 
murder Miss Izabelle. He's going to hide under her bed and 
murder her ! 

All. Oh, Kittens, don't. 



HER UNCLE S BOOTS 



Kit. He is ! He is ! It's some jealous suitor of hers, 

Nell. Maybe she's dead in there now. 

Eliz. Why, girls, where is Miss Izabelle? Has anyone 
seen her? 

All. No, no ! N-o ! 

Eliz. Well, then, something has got to be done ! 

Anne. It surely has ! 

Jule. Let's try scaring ! You girls all get something to 
make a noise with. I'll get my revolver. 

Nell. Have you got that with you, Jule? Good, then 
we're safe, girls ! She can shoot like a trooper. 

Jule. Hurry, get your things ready ! 

Girls. What ? 

Jule. Oh, anything to make a racket with. (All exit ; re- 
enter, one carrying a knife, one a call bell y another a chafing 
dish pan and spoon, one a stove poker and umbrella, in fact any 
object that a college girl might have that could make a noise, ,) 
All form a circle around here and when I give the signal, yell 
and make as much noise as possible. Ready, one, two, three ! 
(All do as directed, and Jule herself shoots off a blank cart- 
ridge. There is ?w sound from within after the hubbub dies 
down.) Maybe he's gone. Anyway, I'm going to see. 
(Makes a spring toward the door a?id opens it ; as the other girls 
fall back screaming, Jule makes a dive into the room and 
suddenly reappears holding up the boots, just as Miss I. enters 
at the rear door.) My uncle's boots! How did they ever 
get in there? 

Miss I. (coming for7£/ard). Your uncle's boots ? 

Jule. Why, yes ; I brought them down to have you put 
them in the box to send to the Old Folks' Home. You said 
there wasn't any pleasure in giving if you never made any sac- 
rifice, and I cared more for these than anything else I ever had ; 
and so I brought them, but I don't see how they got in your 
room ! 

Kit. We thought it was a burglar. I saw 'em. and I 
thought it was a man's feet, and we tried to scare him and 
bribe him, and Jule she took her gun and went in there, and it 
was just some boots ! 

Lor. We were afraid you were murdered. 

Miss I. But how did you come to get these boots, Jule ? 
These are Mr. Lestrange's boots, or used to be at least. 

Jule. Mr. Lestrange, do you know him? Why, he's 
my uncle ! 



HER UNCLE'S BOOTS II 

Miss I. Your uncle ? 

Jule. Why, yes; and the boots used to belong to him. I 
hated awfully to give them up, for he thought so much of them, 
because he wore them the night he saved Miss Gray's life, but 
I don't care very much either after she went off and married 
that horrid millionaire. 

Miss I. Millionaire ! Millionaire ! Marry — I never did ! 

Jule {not noticing the slip). One of her best friends told 
him about it. Her Aunt Mildred told it herself. Uncle Max 
felt dreadful ! He never saw her afterward — and he has just 
hated women ever since, says they're fickle and all that they 
care for is money, and that's why I'm working for my board — 
there, I've gone and told it. 

Miss I. Oh, explain, Jule; I can't understand. 

Jule. Well, you see Uncle Max and Professor Eastman got 
into an argument about girls, and uncle said that all girls cared 
for was money, and it didn't make any difference what kind 
of a man was in love with them, if one with a bigger pocket- 
book came along they'd drop the first one and marry the dol- 
lars. And so, to convince him that one girl at least didn't care 
anything about money, I told him I'd go to a fashionable 
boarding-school and work for my board, even if Dad was worth 
half a million ; and he let me do it, and he gave me his Hero 
Boots for a pledge that he'd quit being so set against girls. 
But I don't think he'll ever care for anybody but Miss Gray. 
I know he just thinks everything of her yet, for when he gave 
me the boots he looked so solemn and said so sadly, " Be good 
to them, little girl, for they mean a whole lot to your uncle yet." 
I just know he loves her, and I just wish I could see her once 
— -horrid old thing ! 

Miss I. Are you sure he loves Claire Gray yet? 

Eliz. Why, how strange you look, Miss Izabelle ; what 
is it? 

{The girls begin to fuss about her.) 

Miss I. {paying no attention to them, but looking fixedly at 
Jule). Are you sure he loves Claire Gray yet, Jule? 

Jule. Why, yes, Miss Izabelle. Why? 

Miss I. {half rising). Because I am Claire Gray, and I 
never married any millionaire, and 

Girls (/// chorus). You Claire Gray ! 

{Look at each other in astonishment.) 



12 HER UNCLE S BOOTS 

Miss I. Claire Izabelle Gray, and oh, Jule, I thought your 
uncle did not care for me, so I never told any one what I was 
going to do after Aunt Mildred and I quarreled and I left there. 
And now I know she lied, besides trying to force me to marry 
that man who was old enough to be my father. I just came 
here where no one knew me and started this girls' school, and 
some one called me Miss Izabelle, and so I just let my name go 
as that. 

Lor. How interesting ! 

Kit. Just like a book ! 

Jule. (going up to Miss I. and putting her arm arotmd her). 
And you are the Claire Gray that my uncle loved, and you 
never married anybody else, and you still care for him? 
(Miss I. nods. Jule to the girls.) Come on, girls, come on. 

Girls. Where? What for? 

Jule. Oh, come quick ; we've got to go to the telegraph 
station ; Uncle Max has got to come and get his boots. 

(Jule grabs them and waves them in the air y just as the 
curtain drops.) 



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And Other Recitations 

Seventy-three selections in prose and verse by Paul Laurence Dunbar, 
Carolyn Wells, Ackland Von Boyle, Charles Follen Adams, Hans Breit- 
mann, F. H. Gassaway, Nora Perry, J. W. Kelley, Belle Marshall Locke, 
S. A. Frost and others. 210 pages. 

Price, 25 cents 

BAKER'S TEMPERANCE DIALOGUES 

Humorous, Dramatic and Instructive 

Comprising: "A Drop Too Much," four males,- two females; "A 
Little More Cider," five males, three females ; " The Man With the 
Demijohn," four males ; " Seeing the Elephant," five males, two fe- 
males; "The Tempter," three males, one female ; " We're All Teetotal- 
lers," four males, two females. A good collection of bright little pieces, 
most of which are also published singly at 15 cents each. 
Price, 25 cents 



Sent post-paid on receipt of price by 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 

BOSTON, MASS. 



New Publications 



THE NEW YORK IDEA 

A Comedy in Four Acts 

By Langdon Mitchell 

Nine male, six female characters. Scenery, three interiors ; costumes 
modern. Plays a full evening. The most notable contribution to Amer- 
ican comedy of recent years, well known through the performance of Mrs. 
Fiske in all the principal cities of the country. Acting rights are strictly 
reserved, but permission may be obtained by amateurs to play it on pay- 
ment of an authors royalty of $25.00 for each performance. 
Price j 50 cents 

THE THUNDERBOLT 

A Comedy in Four Acts 

By Arthur W. Pinero 

Ten male, nine female characters. Scenery, three interiors ; costumes 
modern. Plays a full evening. Published in advance of its production 
in the United States by special arrangement. A powerful acting play 
that reads like a novel. Acting rights strictly reserved for the present. 
Price, JO cents 

CLUB AND LODGE-ROOM ENTER- 
TAINMENTS 

For Floor or Platform Use 

Comprising: "A Ribbon Race," any number, males and females; "A 
Variety Contest, ,, any number, males and females ; " The Shamrock Min- 
strels," four males, three females ; " Apollo's Oracle," any number, males 
and females ; " Plantation Bitters," nine males, eight females ; " Gulliver 
and the Lilliputians Up-To-Date," ten males ; " Dame History's Peep- 
Show," any number; "The Broom Drill," sixteen characters, male or 
female or both. 160 pages. 

Price, 2 J cents 



Sent post-paid on receipt of price by 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 

BOSTON, MASS. 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 









1/1 J 



$««♦ 50 €ent£ <£ad> 



THE MAGISTRATE Far ° e to Three Acts - T^ 1 ™ .males, four 
females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, all 
Interior. Plays two hours and a half. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITF i? rama 1B J°y A f s 

Ei males, five females. 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, all interiors PI- ys s, lull evening. 

THE PROFLIGATE ^yinFourActe ^even males, fi*e females. 
Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ; 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE SCHOOLMISTRESS ^^ThreeActs.Ninemales.seven 
females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 
three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY *** in / ou , r Ac \ s - E *? ht 

*■ males, five females. Cos- 

tumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

SWEET LAVENDER Comed y in Three Acts - Seven males, four 

• females. Scene, a single interior; costumes, 
modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE TIMES Comedy in Four Acts - Six mal es, seven females. 
Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays a 
full evening. 

THE WEAKER SEX Comed y *** ThTee Acts - m ^ males, eight 
females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two 
interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE c T ed ! ta , Thr r Ac , ts - FiTe 

males, four females. Costumes, 
modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter !£♦ Rafter & Company 

Ho. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 400 879 6 

Ct)e i^tiitam W&mu ^uiran 
of $laps 

$rite, 15 €ent£ <£arf> 



AS Yftll I IKV IT Comed y in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four 
AO Ivl L*lALf 11 females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, va- 
ried. Plays a full evening. 

CAM II I F E >rama * n ^ ive Acts. Nine males, five females. Cos- 
S/mniLiLiL* tumes, modern ; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening. 

INflOMAP P^y m Five Acts. Thirteen males, three feinales. 
inuVlTlAI\ Scenery varied ; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening. ' 

MARY STUART Tra g e< *y in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- 
iTliiI\ 1 j 1 lAnl males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 
period ; scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE £32ffi3££& SSSJSI 

.picturesque ; scenery varied. Plajs a full evening. 

RIf HFI IFII -^y in Five Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Scen- 
1\1V11LML,U erv elaborate : costumes of the period. Plavs a full 




evening. 



THF RIVAI S Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. 



full evening. 



varied ; costumes of the period. Plays a 



SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER SSKfLS SS^^JSjpt 

ried ; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening. 

TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOD WILL »eX F £ s e , 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, varied. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter l£. I3afeer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



• . 4. PAHKMILL * OO.. PHINTKR8. BOSTON, U.S.A. 



